You loved red. It was your favourite color. Pretty much everything about you was red.
Especially your blood. It just seeped out of you, even when dieing, you were graceful. Like one of those painting's in your family's mansion. Majestic, Graceful.
Amazing.
I should of seen it coming. I was the 'leader' I was supposed to notice these things, a friend in trouble.
A team mate in trouble.
You. In trouble. You were scared, nervous, you hid though, behind the jokes and the perverse nature. It was like two people in one body. That, in itself, is a beautiful poem. You just refused to let anyone help your poem have a happy ending. You didn't need help. Grew up alone, lived alone, died alone. Is that how you wanted it? To die hated by everyone, pushed in your own little space, a room no-one else can get to. Because the red the blinding-red emotions wouldn't let them in.
You tried to let me in, in Flanoir. When you asked me to come talk to you, I refused. To spend time with that ass, Kratos. I'm not even sure why. I shouldn't have. He betrayed us. So many times, and yet, I still chose him over you.
I know how much that must of hurt. I felt it too. When you attacked us. Gave Collete to Mithos.
The anger. The sorrow. The red. Fighting you was probably the worst thing ever. Possible even worse than finding out about my parents.
"I trusted you, Zelos!"
"Haha! Trusted me? You made the wrong choice then, 'Bud'!"
I did trust you. Trusted you would help us. I think that's what hurt the most. That you laughed. Threw my trust back in my face, hard. Not that you left you. But you destroyed my trust.
And then you used me. Used me to end your pain. What about my pain, Zelos? Did you even think about that?
No.
And so I stand here. Sword plunged in your chest. Not daring to pull it out, knowing the horrid-ness that will seep out of your beautiful body in a graceful, yet horrible way.
Graceful red liquid.
AN: Gah. Lloyd's probably OOC. :c